


the fireworks will be beautiful

by valentin0_ml



Category: Persona 3
Genre: M/M, i also took a few personal liberties and put in a few of my hcs in, poor fuuka walks in on shinjiro wearing something he doesn’t wear ever, shinji deals with some sad thoughts but aki helps, some time during canon, surprisingly i didn’t even know the play existed when i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 07:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17824253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valentin0_ml/pseuds/valentin0_ml
Summary: SEES wants to go to a festival with Shinjiro. A festival where he has to wear a yukata, of all things. His answer? Hell no.





	the fireworks will be beautiful

“No way in hell am I wearing a damn yukata.”

Mitsuru shuts her eyes silently, the small smile forming on her face she uses when she’s tired of someone’s shit. It’s not an uncommon expression when she’s talking to Shinjiro. Not like he can blame her, though. He’s as stubborn as a damn mule. Almost nothing would change his mind. Not even a punch from Aki, usually. The hotheaded moron usually defaults to fighting when he can’t find the words. Mitsuru, on the other hand, wouldn’t show her annoyance aside from the smile. In the pause she takes before speaking, Shinjiro felt the same foreboding feeling in the air that was usually present before an... unfortunate event happened to either him or Aki (but it was usually both.). Like hell she’d use something like _that_ just to make him go to a festival. He may not understand Mitsuru Kirijo very well, but he knows her well enough to know she doesn’t waste punishments like that. Speaking of, the woman herself opens her eyes again and begins speaking.

“Going to the fireworks festival will be beneficial in helping you understand the other team members more. Not only that, but I believe it will help you by exposing you to more people and new activities. I guarantee you will not have to speak to the others. Just being there will help not only yourself, but the others who want you there as well.”

“Who the hell would want to see me at a festival? It seems like a waste of time to me anyways. Filled all with overpriced shit you either stow away for years or break in the first two weeks. It ain’t worth it,” Shinjiro says, a scowl forming on his face. Seriously, what’s with these people? None of them want to leave him alone- every day there’s knocking at his door (none of them aki. he only talks to him outside of the dorms.), and every day he stays in bed, never replying. Yet they always keep trying. It’s not like he hates them. All of them are better people than he could ever hope to be.

“You’d be surprised by how much the second-years are talking about you,” she replies in a wry voice, eyes sharp. “They’re incredibly curious about what you’re like. They haven’t had much of a chance to talk to you. It would be good for you to try.”

He shoves his hands in the pocket of his coat, growling. “I’m not goin’. You all would be better off without me there. I’m no good for shit like that and you know it.”

Mitsuru looks up into his sullen eyes, her arms crossed. “If you wish that much to avoid going, I won’t bother you about it. If your mind changes, talk to me about it. I’ll get something arranged, no matter the time.”

Shinjiro was already walking back to his room by the time she finished her statement, giving no indication he heard. He went up the stairs slowly, one by one, and the slam of his door could be heard a floor down.

 

* * *

 

It’s only three days until the festival, and the most Shinjiro had done since then is sleep, cook for Koro-chan, and leave out food for the other members (because _really_ , pretty much none of them knew how to get a fucking good meal somehow.). He’s always been cooking more than sleeping. It’s good to know the dog (and other members) likes his food. He’d hate to lose his edge at one of the few things he’s good at.

Right now, he’d usually start getting ready for one of his lost roamings around town (he’s been avoiding the back alley for now. he can’t wallow in that when the kid’s here himself.). He was busy lying in bed, staring at the ceiling instead of walking today though. He’s always been more tired after taking a new dose, and was usually reduced to listening to his own traitorous thoughts in silence. It’s a more tolerable silence in a rich girls dorm than a random ditch or apartment. At least, it typically would be silence until he heard knocking on the wall next to him. An old pattern he recognized from when he was younger.

Two quick raps, one slow one. _Talk to me?_ , Aki asked.

He hits the wall twice slowly in response. _Sure._

He hears Aki get up and make his way over to his door. Really, his instinct is to just stay in bed and be an asshole, but Aki doesn’t deserve that. He lets out a quiet grunt of pain as he gets up, and his knees buckle slightly as a small wave of nausea trickles over him, his vision blacking out for a few seconds. He shakes his head a bit, as if to clear away the bad feeling, and walks over to his door, opening it with a slight creak.

Akihiko is in his crimson v-neck and black sweatpants, now standing in front of him. Shinjiro moves away from the door with a small grunt, and Akihiko moves to the too-big chair in his room. They share a silence, one each can only have with the other. It’s not really possible for them to describe it to anyone else- maybe just calm. But even then, it usually doesn’t last.

Shinjiro breaks the silence first.

“Why’d you decide to come now? If you’re going to try and convince me to go to that damn waste of time, I’m not going,” he says, a harsh tone in his voice. He doesn’t want to go, and he’s sure no one else aside from Aki and Mitsuru would want him to go. Just seeing Aki’s face after his statement was enough of a reply to know where the conversation was going.

Aki’s face scrunched a bit as he considered his words towards Shinjiro- really, neither of them were good with words, but this would be a hell of an annoying time to duke things out. He begins somewhat hesitantly. “Shinji...” and god, it was hard for Shinjiro to keep his expression neutral. The way Aki said his name just made his heart jump into his throat every time. It started up again more recently. He doesn’t really get why, either. Now’s not the time to think on it.

“Going to this- it’ll be good for you to do it. You don’t need to dress up or anything. Just going will help,” Aki says. His face is starting to become unreadable to Shinjiro which honestly is worrying, as one of the few things he appreciated his ability at was knowing how Aki felt. “I know it isn’t easy for you to go to this, but I know it’d be good for you, and the others too.” (shinjiro snorted. he’s heard that before.) “A lot of the other members are wanting to see you there. Mitsuru, Hamuko... Ken.”

Shinjiro feels the previously warm feeling in him vanish in a snap. A ball quickly form at the center of his throat, and the guilt that weighed him down, hunching him over every day in the shape of a rider on it’s horse pressed down heavier than before. God. Ken. He can’t forget what happened- what he did- to his mom, and to him. He made him have to live like himself- except he had memories of her. He won’t forgive himself. He turns away from Aki, a frown creasing his face.

“Tch. ...I’ll think on it.”

No he won’t. Aki already knows he’s won, too. He stays a few more minutes while Shinjiro watches his wall, counting all the different lines on it until he leaves. He slowly rolls over again and turns on his fancy-ass, brand-new Kirijo phone that he never uses and calls Mitsuru for the first time.

 

* * *

 

It’s one day before the festival and he’s getting ready to take a walk outside. He just finished pulling on his peacoat and boots when he felt someone- someone _strong_ pull on his arm. He holds back the urge to turn around violently, a sense honed from his new (or is it old now? he knows once this is all over he’ll be going back, though.) lifestyle (it’s not like he wanted to get used to it. he hates fighting other people. the only person it makes sense with is aki.). He slowly turns instead, and looks down into a blazing pair of brown eyes.

“Shinjiro. We are washing your hair,” Hamuko says, beginning to tug him back with her considerable strength (which is honestly surprising taking into account her frame. not by too much to shinjiro personally, since she honestly reminded him a bit of aki. neither of their strength is properly represented by their frames. that, and how she managed to argue with him over _fucking everything_.).

“Hell no.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Shinjiro said, letting himself get slowly pulled away anyways. He knew he wouldn’t win this fight with Hamuko, just from her tone of voice alone. And if he were to be honest with himself, he was getting tired of feeling his greasy-ass hair under his beanie for the past few weeks (months).

It’s not too soon after they end up in Hamuko’s own bathroom, and he levels a glare towards her, mostly because of the ‘what-the-fuck-do-you-want-me-doing-in-here’ feeling he currently is experiencing. She stares back up at him, equally fierce, and points at the floor.

“Sit down and take off your beanie. I’m cleaning your hair.”

“No fucking way,” Shinjiro shoots back (again), his eyes narrowed.

“Shinjiro. Your hair is in a situation that can’t be fixed by normal means! This _has_ to happen. It’s hurting my soul to see it in this state when it can be so much more,” Hamuko says, dramatically grasping at her chest. “I beseech you, my good friend... Please, I _must_ save your hair from this horrid state.”

A sigh unconsciously breezes its way out of Shinjiro because of her ridiculous antics. “You’re not goin’ to leave me alone until I’m clean, are you?”

Hamuko beams brightly as he hunkers down onto the floor. “Not at all! I want you looking _perfect_ for the fireworks,” she says, turning on the water in a sink, with a small sloped area which seems suspiciously well at holding a humans head. She hands Shinjiro a towel. “Now, take off your coat and put the towel around your neck. Beanie too. Keep them on your lap, they’ll stay dry more easily.”

Shinjiro sighs and grumbles just for the sake of grumbling when he pulls off his coat, revealing a heavy sweater. He more hesitantly takes off the beanie, partly because the value it has to him, and partly because he’s tired of hearing his (dirty as fuck) hair commented on. He hears the water stop and the dragging of a chair, and turns around just as Hamuko turns to him.

“Okay! Now you can get up. Everything’s ready,” Hamuko says brightly, giving a grand gesture towards a seat Mitsuru _probably_ bought yesterday after he called her (or maybe she bought it because he wanted hamuko to do her hair before. he wouldn’t be surprised, considering the pristine quality of both of their hair.).

“Why the hell’d you have me sit down?” he grumbles, annoyed.

One of the smuggest looks enters Hamuko’s face (he can hear it in her voice.) as she starts getting his hair wet. “Just wanted to feel taller than you for a bit!”

“Tch,” he replies, and tries to look away except Hamuko grabs his head and forces his hair under the water again.

Honestly Shinjiro isn’t as opposed as he seems to the whole ‘getting clean’ thing anyways. He hates being dirty. It’s just because of some of his.. personal problems (personal problems that he will _not_ ask mitsuru for monetary help over. it’s his body- he can get the cash for it himself. he’ll just need to find a place that’s actually willing to hire a punk like him.), which is why he avoids taking showers often. Though he doesn’t like smelling like shit most of the time. He really should try taking more showers here when he has the chance. He isn’t the most tidy person on the planet, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be the most dirty either. Hamuko starts lathering his hair in whatever conditioner she has, adding more slowly while his hair eats it up. He sighs again, but not with the same emotion as earlier. Honestly, it isn’t really bad on the scale of things he’s been through. Definitely on a scale of things he’s been through.

 

* * *

 

Hamuko hums quietly as she finishes pulling a comb laboriously through Shinjiro’s now shining hair. She stands up and stretches, and throws out the last batch of whatever hair was pulled out from what feels like Shinjiro’s now considerably thinner (it isn’t.) scalp. She pulls the towel from his neck and then reaches for his hair, until Shinjiro scoots away.

“What the fuck is that for,” he says, already nearly on the other side of the room.

Hamuko advances, holding the towel while smiling, but still having a terrifying look in her eyes. “It’s for your hair! I’m gonna plop it!” she replies cheerfully. “I didn’t even know it was curly! I thought it was straight, but all the grease must have stopped the curls from showing up. Anyways, because you _will_ rest after I put this on you, it will help keep your hair looking nice for tomorrow, which is coincidentally thirty minutes away now!”

“You’re going to plop it,” Shinjiro says, shooting her one last deadpan stare, but with a final sigh for the night, succumbs to her last command.

_Fuck it,_ he thinks. _It’s not like I have anything else to lose. Aside from the rest of my dignity._

After the towel is wrapped neatly around his hair, Shinjiro is kicked out of Hamuko’s room the second he picks up his beanie and coat, and exits the bathroom.

Shit.

How is he going to be able to get to his room now? Thank _fuck_ it’s not a full moon, but it _is_ a Tartarus night, even if he isn’t going (hamuko said his hair is more important than him fighting shadows right now. he doesn’t get it.), he has to worry about the others who _are_.

Speaking of the devil, he hears a set of feet moving around, probably to get ready for the night. And judging by the softness of the sound, they belong to none other than Fuuka Yamagishi herself. Fuck. First she finds him cooking and talking to Koro-chan, and if that isn’t bad enough, she might even find him like this. He starts sprinting down the hallway and god _fuck_ why is Hamuko’s dorm at the _very back_ and why do the hallways have to be so _fucking long_ and he hears a door open and the footsteps stop and he pauses like a deer in headlights and slowly turns around to meet the confused eyes of Fuuka herself.

“...Hey.”  
(what the fuck kind of greeting is that when he’s looking like this?)

Fuuka is at a loss for words, and she squeaks out a small, “H-hi?” in return.

“Don’t fucking tell anyone about this,” he says, and unceremoniously hobbles down the stairs, silently thanking god his dorm is the second one closest to the stairway.

 

* * *

 

It’s the day of the firework festival and Shinjiro is looking at his bed with a glare he _wishes_ could burn through it. He briefly reflects back on when Mitsuru knocked on his door at _three fucking am_ with his yukata wrapped neatly in a blue package. It was just before the festival which was the only time he had to be in his room all day because he had to do so much shit throughout it. And now, here it is on his bed.

It was a red with white flowers printed on. The shades of red changed with whatever angle he looked at it from, and the flowers printed on are each their own unique type, with the smallest dots of yellow in the center to represent the centers. It had a jet-black obi, and he knew it would perfectly fit him. It was absolutely beautiful, something even he could see, and he absolutely hated it.

He doesn’t deserve this. In more ways than one. Is this some sort of joke to make him look like Aki? He knows Mitsuru only chose it because it looked good on him, but god. It was already awkward enough explaining to everyone why his hair was suddenly curlier than a poodles, but having to go out in this... it was too much (it wasn’t. he was still going for ken and aki and the others who wanted to believe in him even if he didn’t deserve it at all.). He sighed as he slowly began to change. Beggars can’t be choosers anyways. He asked for something, and so he got it.

He took off his layers that would be too visible under the yukata and then threw on three more undershirts. Really, as long as he kept his core warm, he’d be (mostly) okay. He slowly began pulling on the yukata, and after about seven minutes was fully prepared. He kept on his beanie and wrapped his watch securely around his neck.

His eyes shifted naturally to the side again as he made it downstairs where the rest of the group (sans Aki. the moron decided to train beforehand and was forced to take a shower before he was allowed to dress.) was waiting. Mitsuru gave a satisfied small smile at him while Yukari, Junpei, and Fuuka ‘ooh’d and ‘ahh’d over him. Ken gave him a smile and complimented him and his heart had a little painful pang as he thanked the kid. Hamuko, a force of her very own, walked over to him with a hair tie in her hand, the other one making a grabby motion towards his beanie.

“ _No._ ”

“Yep!” she exclaimed, just as cheerful as before. “You can keep on your hat if you’d like, but I’m putting your hair in a ponytail.”

He sighed and sat down, slowly taking off the beanie (his beanie. it’s probably been off his head more the past two days than it had been in years, probably. his older sister gave it to him before she was gone. he hasn’t let go of it since. even when it constantly slid over his eyes back in the days when he played with aki and mi-chan, and he had to push it up what felt about every thirty seconds, it was still with him. he’ll never forget his sister, even if the beanie is the only memory of her he has.) and Hamuko got to work. She brushed his bangs out of his eyes, and pulled his hair into a low-hanging ponytail. He was just about to put his beanie back on when Aki entered the room, and his eyes instantly fell on Shinjiro. He stared at him, his mouth opening to say something, then closing, and finally looking away with a slight flush rising to his face, and walks over to talk with Aigis. Shinjiro silently jammed his beanie back on while Junpei whispered something to Yukari and she hit him on the back of the head.

Mitsuru stands at the door, a small smile on her face. Not the same one as a few days before, but a genuine one.

“Since it seems we’re all ready, shall we go?” she says, elegantly poised, as always. A chorus of confirmations echos her statement, but Aki was uncharacteristically silent. He also hasn’t looked back in Shinjiro’s direction ever since he entered, and he’s among the first to leave. Shinjiro, to nobody's surprise, ends up at the back of the group. He shuffled along, _just_ keeping up enough with the group that people would be able to know he’s with them, and soon enough, bright lights where a low roar created by hundreds of people talking to each other came into hearing range.

 

* * *

 

Shinjiro separated from the group fairly quickly. It’s not like he didn’t want to be around them, it was just a bit much. Especially with Ken. He does want to protect the kid, but seeing an all-too familiar sadness behind his eyes was too much. He trusted the others to watch over him for now. He swears he saw Aki take a quick glance at him from the corner of his eyes (which definitely _weren’t_ getting worse. fuck off.) before everyone was out of his vision. He spent most of the festival wandering around like he did with Aki and Mi-chan when they were all children. The main difference now is he actually looked like he should be part of it, and could actually buy some of the overpriced shit. He was looking around at the crowds until he felt a small tug at his leg and looked down to see a small girl with ruddy cheeks who was holding the hand of an even smaller boy, both looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Excuse me sir..,” she said in a small voice that tugged at his heart, and he crouched down to reach eye height with them.

“What’s up?” he said in a voice that (hopefully) isn’t scary. He’s had trouble with telling lately (aside from with koro-chan. but he won’t talk to kids like he would a dog.).

The little girl shuffled her feet as the young boy sucked on his thumb, still staring at him in the way young rugrats always do. It still honestly made him happy. The girl opened her mouth again. “Kengo and I wanted to know.. are you a pirate? You’re really tall, like the pirates we see on TV.”

A small chuckle unwittingly emerged from Shinjiro (kids and dogs. what could he say? they were his soft spots.), and he nodded, playing along. “Yep. ...I’m the best pirate nowadays. Do you know what I can do?”

The children’s eyes shone as they nodded along frantically in the excited way kids do.

He continues in a hushed tone, pretending to look around to make sure no one discovered his ‘secret’. “I’m the best pirate of all because I help protect the other pirates. ‘m just lucky to be the best at it. Shhhh, you can’t let other people know. If they find out, my saving powers (a hurt pang beats in his chest. he wished it was. all it’s done is hurt others and himself. they don’t need to know that.) may not work as well.”

The girls eyes somehow got even wider, and she nodded frantically, while the younger boy (her brother?) scanned him, as if trying to memorize his appearance.

“Speaking of saving,” Shinjiro says, glancing around. “Do you two have any parents? Someone may be worryin’ about you.”

The little boy who had been quiet the entire time spoke up now.

“Daddy...” he says, a short finger pointing to a man who was frantically looking around. He stood up to his full height and extended his hand out to the little girl.

“We should go back to your daddy. He looks really worried.”

The girl grabbed on with little hesitation, and Shinjiro pushed slowly through the crowd until the frantic man caught sight of him and rushed over.

“Akako, Kengo! Don’t leave your poor dad like that again!” the man said, kneeling down to hug them. He looks up at Shinjiro, who had looked away, embarrassed, from the touching moment. “Thank you so much, young man- I can’t think of a way to repay you-“

Shinjiro hold up his hand. “‘s all good.... You have good kids.” He almost just walks away until he realizes he needs to at least try to be a good role-model- he ain’t the ideal person to follow, but these kids probably won’t ever meet him again. It doesn’t hurt here.

“I.. uh.. have to catch up to some friends.. I’ll see ya later,” he says awkwardly, starting to turn around because shit it’s actually getting near the time of the fireworks.

The man nods once, and looks down at the two kids, eyes filled with emotion. “Say goodbye to this good man here.”

The two kids wave as he goes off towards where he _thinks_ he remembers seeing the others last. The girl makes a large zipping motion over her mouth, and a grin unconsciously worms its way onto his face as he holds a single hand up in farewell.

 

* * *

 

Incredibly, he runs into Aki on the turf where everyone is at now to watch the fireworks. Or more accurately, Aki runs into him. He was looking around the area until he was knocked onto his ass on the ground (which wasn’t wet or muddy so nothing much aside from a few grass blades he could wipe off, thank fuck).

A notoriously familiar voice is above him, and a gloved hand he’d recognize anywhere extends from above, and he looks up and meets Aki’s concerned eyes. He grabs on and pulls himself up, or tries to, when Aki’s grip slackens for a second and he _nearly_ falls again until Aki’s other hand shoots to hold him up from his back, and Shinjiro swears his heart skips a beat as he meets Aki’s eyes again and oh the fireworks are starting and it looks like a halo around his head now.

Shinjiro is only brought back from his daze by feeling his beanie start to slide off his head from the awkward angle, and Aki snaps back to reality as well, and he hauls Shinjiro up on his feet.

“The hell you’d almost drop me for?” he grumbles, dusting off the yukata. Mitsuru would have his head if he got it dirty.

“It’s... Sorry,” Aki says, now unabashedly staring at him. Shinjiro stares back, taking into account just how.. handsome Akihiko was, from just how bright his eyes were, to how beautiful his personality was, and then lets out a grunt as the explosion of another firework breaks their small moment.

“You’re not as shy as earlier.”

Akihiko goes bright red (it’s a good look on him) and sputters before quickly grabbing Shinjiro’s hand (he chest felt warm at that, and it wasn’t because of the four shirts he was wearing underneath) and pulling him away to a secluded area where pretty much no one was at, since it was a shit view. Akihiko looked up, and not being able to find the right words (which was usual for them), grabbed the cuff of his yukata. Shinjiro reactively tensed his body, preparing to fight- but god, really? At a fucking festival he may honestly be less opposed to go at than he was at first and-

And he feels Aki’s lips on his.

His eyes snap back to Akihiko who’s forcefully smushing his eyes shut with red cheeks and on his tiptoes (which he must hate) and god it feels so good and so he recuperates. He leans into Aki, and kisses back gently. He feels Aki slowly pull off his still-crooked beanie and hold it tightly in his hands, pressing it into his back as his grip tightened. He didn’t want this moment to pass even if he didn’t deserve it, he just wanted to stay here kissing Aki while listening to the boom of the fireworks with clean hair at a honestly still sorta shitty festival in an overpriced yukata that he’s definitely going to give back and will eventually have to sneak back into Mitsuru’s room because she won’t let him just give it back normally and keep feeling how warm and strong Aki is and how warm his heart feels in his chest but unfortunately it couldn’t stay that way forever. He hears the clacking of wooden sandals as Aigis of all people- (robots? wait. how are they even wearing the sandals? they don’t have feet to slide into the straps he’s pretty sure. he’s never really cared enough to learn.) enters the small area that was just Aki’s and Shinjiro’s for those precious few moments.

Their eyes dully register over him and Aki who quickly broke apart, both with red faces, and says in that weirdish robot voice of theirs, “Aragaki-san and Sanada-san. Hamuko has been looking for you two. I suggest meeting her, as the other members are wanting to go back to the dormitory.”

Aki meets Shinjiro’s eyes, and he looks back at Aigis, (but not before taking a quick glance at his ((still clean and curly)) mussed hair) and nods. “We’ll be right behind you. Please show us where they are.”

 

* * *

 

They all had to leave early because they didn’t want to get caught in the Dark Hour while wearing yukata, since it’s a pain to move in them, and Mitsuru would be pissed if anyone ripped theirs. Shinjiro quickly takes his off in his room and throws on warm clothes as he started shivering on the way back to the dorms (until Aki fell back and held his hand. he felt a lot more warm then. he still didn’t know how to react to any of this. all he could definitely say is that he like this. a lot more than their fights. maybe he’s unconsciously wanted it all along.). Just as he finished pulling on his sweater, he heard a familiar pattern of knocks again.

Two quick raps, one slow one.

He didn’t knock in reply, and instead opened up the door to Akihiko again. He walked in without a word, and once Shinjiro closed his door, turned around and hugged him. He automatically tensed as first, hands still in the air, confused at a foreign touch like this, but slowly wrapped his arms around Aki as well, and they rocked slowly back and forth together. Honestly in most cases he isn’t much of a touchy-feely person, but with Aki, he’s definitely fine with it. His heart, while still holding its normal heaviness (as he still had to repent for his ((many)) sins) felt lighter- more open- around Aki.

..Did he love him? He wasn’t sure.

That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is the contact between the two as they embraced each other, each one filling a hole the other has, while they dance to a silent song of their own making at their own pace.

 

* * *

 

The next morning(?), Shinjiro wakes up with Aki next to him (he looked so peaceful in his sleep. the sun is shading his figure warmly). He feels nearly overwhelmed. (how could he be this lucky?) He closes his eyes and for this brief, happy moment, feels full of peace.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i wrote all of this in a day because my boyfriend wanted more happy akishinji fics. i’m currently writing another from akihiko’s point of view.


End file.
